


Darkness is Everything

by fuzzykitty01



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Dark!Rorie, Fearling!Rorie, Gen, I blame nose for my BenneFrost feels, OC, Origin Story, Pitch is a creeper, Pitch steals children that do not belong to him, Rorie Bennett, The name of this twisted ship is TaintedBorealis, and turns them into fearlings, childsnatching, giftfic, nose-nippin-fun, rorie-borie-bennefrost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 03:27:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1089058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzzykitty01/pseuds/fuzzykitty01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little drabble I made for nose-nippin-fun's OC Rorie Bennett. Rorie gets kidnapped by Pitch and turned into a Fearling in one of our RPs so this is Dark!Rorie's origin story. =u=</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darkness is Everything

Darkness is everything to me. Darkness is in my eyes, in my mind, in my heart, and even deep in my bones. I live in darkness. I _breathe_ darkness. It was the first thing I remember; the black inky depths of fear and darkness itself. I was so scared for so long, that I didn’t think I’d be capable of feeling anything else ever again. 

But then I saw gold. 

My eyes opened for the first time in days (weeks? months? years…?) and right beyond the darkness were to slivers of gold just hovering in the black. I would later realize they were eyes. They were the eyes of my lord and master; my father, Pitch Black. He looked at me with curiosity at first, then caution, then finally affection blossomed in his serpentine eyes. 

"Good morning, my prince." He cooed. His voice was velvet against my ears. I had heard nothing but my own harsh screams and shrill pleas for someone to save me for longer than I could recall, so the soft trill of my master’s rumbling voice was a comfort I hadn’t realized I craved.

I reached out to him; my pale, shaky hands craved to hold him and never let him go. His own ashy hand met mine half way and curled around my fingers delicately; like he was afraid I’d break. He was right to, I guess, because as soon as his skin touched mine, I wept. Pitch pulled me against his blackened robes and let me cry into his chest. He shushed me with crooning words of comfort and he pet my hair with his long, spidery fingers. He told me that I was strong; that he was proud of me for surviving the transformation into a Fearling Prince. 

"You will be great." He said. "The Guardians will fear us both and we shall exact our revenge against your _other_ parents for their mistreatment of you.” 

My body went cold and my heart skipped a beat at the mention of my other parents. I didn’t know why, but I both feared and hated them already. Pitch noticed my trembling and rushed to console me. 

"Oh yes. Jack Frost and Jamie Bennett will _pay_ for how they left you to suffer. They knew you were in danger and they left you _alone_. I was the only one who cared enough to find you in the black. By the time I found you, you were tangled in the throws of terror like a butterfly caught in a spider’s web. You must hate them for it.” Pitch hummed. “My poor little butterfly. You will have your vengeance soon enough.”

I didn’t know if that was true; I barely knew who I was, let alone who wronged me. Something about the words niggled at the back of my mind; like they weren’t quite right, but a larger, darker part of me raged against the supposed wrongness of my king’s words. **_How_ dare _I question my lord and savior? How could I even_ think _to doubt the words of my king when he was the only one who cared enough to find me?_** He was the only face I knew. He was the only face I _cared_ to know, so the rising image in my head of two familiar men in love grated on my nerves. Who was this stranger with white hair and blue eyes who had such a smug (loving?) grin on his face? Who was that man with brown hair and eyes full of wonder and _light_ ( ** _light is bad get it away!_** ) hanging off his arm **_like a tramp?_** (Not tramp, husband!) Whoever they were, I didn’t want them in my head. I wanted them _gone_ so I could love my king entirely. 

Pitch smiled down at me. I smiled back; despite the shiver running down my spine. (Fear is good. Fear protects me.) Pitch ran a clawed hand down my face and I leaned into the touch. 

"Oh yes. We shall be great." He murmurs with a razor sharp grin. "Come, my prince. We have much to do." 

I followed him. I gave no backwards glance at where I came from, but if I had, I would’ve realized how the shadows hissed with mocking giggles and retreated to reveal the entrance to the cave. I would’ve realized how close I was to freedom from the black before my king came. I would’ve seen the moon twinkle softly and dim a bit as if sad that its light came too late.

But I didn’t look back. Why would I; when the prospect of going forward held much more promise?


End file.
